


Fear is my domain, thou art my victory

by CloveeD



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Binding magic, Blood, Cum Play, Grindelwald followers Graves parents, M/M, Sex Magic, estranged Graves parents headcanon, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 23:53:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14580420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloveeD/pseuds/CloveeD
Summary: 25 years ago, the Graves couple made a deal with a fanatic leader.





	Fear is my domain, thou art my victory

**Author's Note:**

> ((As per @wandchoosesthewizard ‘s ask for this meme-game - ohhh my god i laughed my head off, running bride much? I’ve tweaked the childhood marriage promise setting to 25 years ago, and Graves’ age now to 36, my headcanon for his current age)) I made up magic symbols please don't ask me what those terms mean. Also, I never know how to end a drabble. Someone save me.  
> Update: I can't believe no one pointed out to me that 'dole' is not 'doe' xDD And the mistake about Grindy being from Hogwarts. Corrected!

 

-

The answer was “No”.

 

Whatever deal the head Graves had made with Gellert Grindelwald 25 years ago, siding, unbelievably, with the rising fanatic’s ideology, betraying all of first Auror Gondulphus Graves’ convictions, was nothing that Percival Graves the fourth generation of Graves line here in America agreed with. What Cormac and Aurnia in their political greed and dissatisfaction had agreed to was purely a deal of power interest - and exactly what the charismatic Grindelwald was after. 

When Cormac and Aurnia discovered that their only son at his young age then was a powerhouse of magic, it was like a miraculous bidding chip had been dropped into their laps for the first time (they were never much involved in Percival’s childhood, leaving the parenting ordeal to Grandma and her ‘useless foraging with the Natives’), and so, immediately they struck this deal with Grindelwald. When Grindelwald’s influence would spread overseas to America, the Graves family wanted a safe, secure first seat in Grindelwald’s counsel.

 

Grindelwald had no reason to decline this bit of offering on a silver platter. If anything, it confirmed once again his theories - fear made people  _little_ ; fear drove people dumb and desperate, and Grindelwald - Grindelwald was a  _god_  of this emotion. This was but a finger of offering in reflection of more that were to come. 

Plus, 25 years was a very long time, he could always void the spell-sealed agreement by having the promised child bride killed by someone else if he had other ideas about this (frankly this was a very minuscule part of his life as far as he was concerned). He was busy - spreading and rooting his influence across European nations, taking hold of wixen communities with fear and strategy, and causing useful, precise lesions between communities in order to push for the changes he wanted. 

He had no time to invest in a child bride across the sea, so the Graves were never on Grindelwald’s mind until this day, when Grindelwald had finally arrived at North America, landing in New York, where his next target was the MACUSA and the wixen it governed. 

 

—–Percival Edwardson Graves had grown into a powerhouse of a man, slightly to Grindelwald’s surprise. 

It was beautiful. A wild predator-like raw magic just meticulously coiled within the body of the 36 year old, newly-assumed Director of MACUSA’s Magical Security and Head of Aurors - looking just civil enough that the flock around him knew not nearly enough of his capabilities; wielding just enough honed senses that when the man stepped out of the building, he paused in his steps in intuitive alertness, and Grindelwald had to look away. There was a powerhouse there, and Grindelwald had uses for it.

So he reached to take his promised bride on an evening, his stance that of a gentleman, his smile mild and arrogant, his words that of the Devil collecting his debt. 

So of course, two sentences in, Percival tried to kill him.

 

“It doesn’t have to be like this, Percival. My purpose is merely to collect what was promised to me.” Grindelwald called from the dark window of the abandoned manor in a ghost town on the outskirts of New York that he’d chased Percival into. He knew what Percival was doing - divert the fight away from urban area in order to maintain that pesky law of secrecy as well as to protect any civilians around. The Director had yet to call for backup - Grindelwald suspected it was because there was still a whisper of doubt in Percival’s mind as to whether he should be obeying his family’s decree, or obey MACUSA’s laws. 

A whisper of doubt was more than enough - it was enough to herd this lovely creature into isolation in the face of an overwhelming predator. It was enough to give Grindelwald time to wedge his influence through his words in Percival’s ears. 

Plus, Grindelwald hadn’t had a work-out so vigorous since the time he split from Durmstrang. 

 

He edged forward by the window from the outside for a visual, and Percival’s hex came shrieking out through the broken window glass like an artwork illustrating just how much Percival  _wanted to kill his fiance_. Grindelwald made a face, lips pursed, “—Ohh…that’s not nice. I can’t help but prefer that sort of heat to stay in the bedroom, if you wouldn’t mind, darling.” 

“The only time I would see you in a bedroom would be if I drenched it in gasoline and lit it up along with the house!” Percival barked back. 

Grindelwald gauged the source of his fiance’s location, and fired back a body-locking curse, which Percival shielded in time, but the light of the spellwork lit up the inside of the abandoned mansion momentarily, giving Grindelwald a visual of Percivla’s pale, furious face. Percival noticed this just a split second after Grindelwald, before the light of the spells dimmed back down into pitch darkness. 

Ah, but he spotted a thread of fear just now, on Percival’s face. Did his promised bride not realize - that Grindelwald was a  _god of fear itself_?

 

As he suspected, that tiny thread of fear that Grindelwald had spotted on Percival’s face was the deciding factor by the time Grindelwald strong armed his way into the abandoned manor, when Percival was cornered into a curse match with Grindelwald, the sizzling light of their wands locked together as Grindelwald finally was able to look into his promised bride’s eyes and said, “I think we’ve done enough foreplay by now, would you not agree, my sweet?” 

The lights of their wands zapped a few more times rapidly after that, visible only to the magic eye from the broken windows. Out came barely-suppressed howls of pain when Grindelwald broke his bride’s wand in half, and stabbed it into Percival’s leg, twisted it as the wand sparked in a furious death inside Percival’s flesh. Grindelwald boxed the injured wizard against the wall corner as Percival howled in pain. The magic explosion of a broken wand had broken his bone. There was blood staining Grindelwald’s fingers as he released his grip on the wand buried in Percival’s leg, letting his fingers trace up that thigh over the bloodied fabric. 

Percival shuffled back up against the wall, taking Grindelwald’s touch with him, Grindelwald crawled forward, grey and dark eyes glistening in the moonlit mansion. “You’ve figured out why you couldn’t Apparate.” he observed with approval in his voice, Percival reached to pull out his broken wand, his hand then caught by Grindelwald’s bloodied hand. “You’ve realized that your parents had sworn oath to me, by magic that binds.” 

 

Grindelwald was right. The second that Percival had figured this out on his own, and realized that he had been set up to enter a closed space where Grindelwald could activate the promised spell, he’d felt fear drench his skin, fear flooding his veins. He couldn’t escape, and he couldn’t fight this. He would be furious with his parents for selling him in such thorough manner, but he didn’t have the time. Grindelwald was on him, gaze full of sick encouragement, and then they were kissing. Grindelwald was pressing his tongue in; Percival would like to think it cold and sickly with all that dark shit that spills out of the wizard’s mouth on the regular, but it was hot and hungry against Percival’s own. 

One of Percival’s wrists were bound against a steel pipe against the wall, the other one is in Grindelwald’s grip. “Give me your seed, it’s rightfully mine.” Grindelwald hissed like a promise of death, free hand pumping both their cocks as their legs tangled together, Percival unable to block the blonde out with his knees, his trousers ripped down only a third of the way, Grindelwald sitting on one of Percival’s thighs and keeping Percival’s legs open with one of his own. Percival wasn’t hard, but Grindelwald’s was, and Percival will become hard eventually. The height of their physical struggles had passed, and now Percival was just trembling with rage, with disgust, with confusion, because pleasure was not a feeling he should be feeling right now. 

“Look at how we mix, how we become one.” The dark wizard continued, smearing his own precum over Percival’s reluctantly hardening appendage. “You were meant for great things, Percival. You were meant to be mine.” Grindelwald’s powerhouse, Grindelwald’s great conquest, his bride on a platter, his way to taking over America. 

 

Grindelwald drew an Agonese star, a brippin, and a needle of Finthrucheine with the mix of both their release. The red of Percival’s blood, the mix of their seed, ebony of Percival’s wand burnt by Percival’s own magic, and Grindelwald’s magic. 

Percival panted beneath him like a dying doe, dark eyes, wet mouth.  _His now. His always and evermore._  In fear, his domain. And Grindelwald knew victory. 


End file.
